


Late Night, Early Morning

by DemonWalker



Category: In The Flesh
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1850344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonWalker/pseuds/DemonWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No, Simon, simon. Listen to me, m’hungry."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night, Early Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I could not come up with a title for the life of me, I'm so sorry. Originally posted on Tumblr! :)
> 
> Headcanon (Idk if this can be called one; but if you send me headcanons, they will turn into fics, you've been warned)/Prompt by Anon - "I have this image of Kieren waking up with stomach ache because he's becoming alive again and rolling over to Simon like "I'm hungry" and Simon taking it as "I'm horny" not realising Kieren has hunger now. The shocked face change when Kieren clarifies. Then trying to make food but is stumped because he can't cook."
> 
> Oh, and, just in case; non compos mentis is I think latin & used in law to describe someone's mental state...BUT also used colloquially as a way of saying 'confused' or 'out of it'.

Simon is woken up sometime after 3am to an insistent whisper of his name in his right ear. Despite being an unusual occurrence, he merely wraps his arms tighter round Kieren’s middle and shuffles closer to him, tucking his head under his chin and grumbling quietly. No real words, but Kieren knows what he’d be saying if he was less _non compos mentis._

"No, Simon, simon. Listen to me, m’hungry."

Simon starts laughing quietly against Kieren’s neck before he groans and pulls back enough to look up at him.

"Seriously? It’s three in the morning…"

He’s trailing his hands lower down Kieren’s sides though, resting them on his hips before trailing them down his thighs to follow. Kieren cottons on to the issue with communication pretty quickly and pulls away, sitting up against his headboard before Simon can move his hands anywhere else.

"No, you ass; hungry. Legitimately hungry. Food."

Simon’s face drops quickly before he looks more stunned than Kieren feels, rolling onto his back and scrubbing a hand over his face. He looks weary, as if he’s worried about something. And if it weren’t such an odd occurrence, he’d feel bad for waking Simon up, he looks bleary eyed and sleepy even as he sits up and pushes the covers off.

"You wanna raid your parents cupboards?"

Kieren’s up and out of bed, tip toeing from his room and downstairs before Simon can register the nod of agreement he gave.

By the time Simon manages to sneak into the kitchen after him, Kieren’s got every cupboard, and both doors to the fridge and freezer, open, rummaging through every shelf to find whatever he feels like eating.

"If this ends in black sludge, m’not clearing it up."

Kieren looks over so quickly, Simon pauses, worried he’s made a mistake making the comment, but then Kieren’s grinning wide and laughing, shrugging his shoulders; continuing to look through the leftovers in the fridge.

Somehow, Kieren ends up perched on the kitchen counter-top munching on chocolate biscuits, grinning from ear to ear about the fact he can actually taste them, while Simon sorts food into separate pans and turns on the rings. He’s nervously glancing at Kieren every few seconds, and at first Kieren thinks it’s because of the black sludge comment earlier, but then he realises maybe it’s the fact Kieren delegated cooking duty to him.

Half of the leftovers ends up still stone cold in the center, and the other half end up 80% burnt. Simon’s all over the place, apologising that he isn’t a better cook, but Kieren practically inhales everything before starting to ‘help’ him with the cleaning and clearing up by transferring as many bubbles as he can to Simon’s face, as a beard, and kissing him once they dissipate, making his face slightly slippery and wet, laughing at the awful taste of washing up liquid, and Simon’s response mumbled against his mouth.

"…I bake better than I cook…"


End file.
